The Bolds to the Rescue

by Julian Clary

  “How silly of me!” she said. “As if I could ever go back. I’d miss all of my friends here far too much, for starters.”

  Fifi, meanwhile, had a very different problem. As we have seen, she was excellent in all her classes, and while she looked marvelous in shimmering frocks and sequined skirts, she had to be gently informed that some daywear choices were also important.

  “You can’t walk down to the shops in THAT!” giggled Bobby. “You’ll stop the traffic!”

  “But I am an artiste extraordinaire,” drawled Fifi, a little pompously. “I like very much to stop the traffic. I feed off the attention.”

  “But I thought we were trying to fit in, not stick out,” said Gangster’s Moll, frowning.

  “Speak for yourself!” answered Fifi.

  She also made it very clear during Career Advice that she was a singer who wanted to sing, and she would not be seeking any temporary jobs in the local supermarket or coffee shop. She refused to go to the Job Center and insisted that Mr. Bold find her some auditions instead.

  “I am ready, I tell you. Prête! I have the dress, now I need an orchestra, makeup artist, hairdresser, manager, and audience! I must sing! C’est l’amour de ma vie!”

  “It is very good to be confident, of course,” said Mr. Bold, getting a little agitated. “But you haven’t even walked down Fairfield Road dressed as a human yet. You can’t run before you can walk. Besides, we really can’t afford an orchestra. Or any of those things. It’s out of the question. You can’t just suddenly become a star, you know. I believe, in show business, you have to start at the bottom.”

  “Bottom?” repeated Fifi, her nose twitching. “I know all about the bottoms. I am a chien, a dog, remember!”

  “I have an idea,” piped up Minnie, who was visiting for the first time since the incident with the police. She was fascinated by show business and red carpets and thought Fifi was the most incredible creature she’d ever met. She was desperate to help her.

  “What’s that, dear?” asked Mrs. Bold. Minnie always had very good ideas—although some of them could be a bit naughty.

  “Well, our music teacher at school, Mr. Trumpet, gives singing lessons in his spare time. He could teach Fifi, I’m sure. He wouldn’t charge much, probably nothing, if I explain about my very talented but very poor friend who is visiting from France . . .” As she said this, Minnie put her arm affectionately around Fifi, who couldn’t resist a quick lick of Minnie’s cheek at the mention of her talent.

  “Great idea, Minnie!” said Mrs. Bold, clapping with joy.

  “Oh, merci beaucoup! Thank you!” said Fifi, whimpering with excitement.

  “I’ll ask him tomorrow, then!” said Minnie.

  “Yes. I think you’re more than ready to go out and about as a human, Fifi dear. But don’t lick the teacher,” cautioned Mrs. Bold. “He might not like it. And try not to chase your tail or growl. And if you accidentally do, just explain that you’re French. Such things are traditional in your country.”

  “Of course,” said Fifi dreamily. She was gazing into the distance now, imagining herself in front of a huge, adoring audience, all applauding wildly and calling “Encore!”

  “It’s all very well,” said Mr. McNumpty to Uncle Tony that evening as they played their usual game of dominoes before bedtime. “Fifi is more than ready for her first trip on the outside. But everyone else is starting to feel a little cooped up. Stir crazy. Sheila’s getting very snappy. I think if Fifi goes off for singing lessons it might cause jealousy, you know.”

  “Oh no, we don’t want that,” muttered Tony, remembering how exciting his own first outing had been, although he’d had to push Miranda around in the doll’s pram, because he had trouble walking on his hind legs and needed something to prop himself up with.

  “I’ll have a word with Mr. and Mrs. Bold,” said Mr. McNumpty decisively. “Maybe there’s somewhere we could all go. Just for a quiet stroll in the park, maybe. Get everyone out the house and stretching their legs.”

  “What, all twelve of us?” asked Uncle Tony doubtfully, counting everyone up.“Not including the cat or turtle or seagulls, I suppose, as they go out all the time anyway.”

  “That’s right. Everybody learning to pass as a human. And me, of course, making us twelve in total. It would be fun, wouldn’t it? Might cheer Sheila up a bit too.”

  “Mmm. If you’re sure they are all ready.”

  “There’s only one way to find out . . . Your turn,” replied Mr. McNumpty.

  Chapter 11

  As it happened there was a big fair in Bushy Park the following Sunday, with lots of attractions, including a bouncy castle, a raffle, games, a cake stall, and a fancy-dress parade with prizes.

  After careful consideration Mr. and Mrs. Bold agreed with Mr. McNumpty: a group outing would perk the whole household up, and it was the perfect opportunity to try out the skills they had been trying so hard to master.

  “I hope there won’t be any slip-ups,” said Mrs. Bold.

  “Well, if there are we can say we all dressed up as animals as part of the fancy dress parade, can’t we?” suggested Bobby.

  “Perfect, son!” said Mr. Bold, who made the announcement to the excited housemates after classes that day. Even the twins, Mr. McNumpty, and Uncle Tony, who were all used to going out and about, were thrilled at the prospect of going to the fair.

  “Cake stall!” squealed Betty.

  “Cotton candy!” cried Mr. McNumpty.

  “Toffee apples!” said Tony, licking his lips.

  On the day of the fair, the excitement was at a fever pitch in the two semidetached houses in Fairfield Road. It was a lovely, bright, sunny day, perfect for the event in the park. The Bolds all wore their Sunday best, Mr. McNumpty wore a light summer suit and Miranda a pretty floral doll’s dress that fitted her perfectly. Tony didn’t like dressing up and refused to wear anything other than his usual faded green tracksuit.

  It was decided that to be on the safe side, the others—who were all about to take their very first steps out onto the streets of Teddington—should do a rehearsal before leaving, in front of the more experienced animals, just in case there were any glaring mistakes or giveaways, in terms of both dress and walking human-style. The Bolds, Mr. McNumpty, Uncle Tony, and Miranda sat in the lounge to watch the parade.

  “Ready for the inspection!” called Mr. Bold, and one by one the nervous recent arrivals came in, dressed up and walking unsteadily on their hind legs.

  Sheila was wearing a long, dark green velvet skirt (to match her eyes), which hid her thick tail very nicely, a faded white cheesecloth blouse covered in a Spanish shawl decorated with roses, and on her head a large-brimmed, floppy black sun hat. Her walk was a bit of a waddle, but as long as she didn’t try to go too fast, not too distracting.

  “Very good, Sheila!”’ exclaimed Mrs. Bold. “Your lovely eyes, though, are a little bit mesmerizing . . . Maybe some large sunglasses?” Sheila nodded and went back to the dressing-up box to find some suitable ones.

  Fifi was next. She had opted for a pink sequined crop top with a matching lycra miniskirt revealing her long shaved legs. She had backbrushed the fur on top of her head and ears into a big, shimmering pom-pom. She was wearing bright red lipstick, blusher and false eyelashes and carried a small white patent shoulder bag. She tottered in on a pair of rather high, white calf-length stiletto boots.

  Mr. Bold gave a whistle.

  “Oh dear,” stammered Mrs. Bold, giving her husband a disapproving glare. “Very, er, pretty, Fifi, but I’m not sure you should go out like that. People might . . . How shall I phrase it?”

  “I cannot help it if I am beautiful,” shrugged Fifi. “Let them stare all they want. One day they will pay to look at me!” There was obviously no arguing with Fifi, so Mrs. Bold just sighed and turned her attention to the rest of the animals.

  Roger had opted for a wig of dreadlocks to cover his horns, and was wearing a rather fetching shirt undone almost to his navel.

 
“Blimey, Roger,” said Bobby. “I didn’t recognize you!”

  But Roger had been as confused as usual and forgotten to put any trousers on.

  “Really, Roger,” scolded Mrs. Bold, “we’ve talked about this before. You mustn’t forget about your bottom half. You know how people talk.”

  Roger looked a little tearful.

  “Now now, don’t upset yourself,” said Mrs. Bold more kindly. “Come upstairs after the dress rehearsal. I’ll sort you out with a pair of nice snug jeans. And I’ve got a rather fetching medallion somewhere which would set your woolly chest off nicely.”

  Now it was the racehorses’ turn to show their costumes. Standing on their back legs made Gangster’s Moll and Minty Boy extraordinarily tall, but there was nothing much to be done about that. Their outfits, at least, were very credible. Both were dressed in matching gray overalls over brushed-cotton gingham shirts. Their manes were worn forward, covering their large foreheads very well, and they each wore stylish cowboy hats and were chewing straw as they walked up and down in front of Mr. and Mrs. Bold’s critical eyes.

  “Bravo!” said Mr. Bold. “Very convincing indeed!”

  “Like a couple of country bumpkins ready for a hoedown,” said Mrs. Bold. “Excellent!”

  “Can we go to the fair now, please?” asked Bobby impatiently. He’d been looking forward to it for days and couldn’t wait to join the fun.

  “Yes, dear, in a moment,” said Mrs. Bold, casting a final eye over everyone. “Dad is just going to give a little pep talk, and then we shall be on our way.” She nudged Mr. Bold, who stood up and cleared his throat.

  “Right then, folks,” he began. “Ready to go to the fair?”

  There was a cheer from everyone, followed by a nervous whinny from Minty Boy.

  “Just a few important things to remember. Number one, keep upright on your hind legs at all times. If you slip onto all fours, pretend that you’ve dropped something and get back up as soon as you can. Number two, no animal noises, please. It will alarm the humans and draw attention to us. If you accidentally growl, bark, neigh, or snap, then try to make it sound as if you’re having a bit of a cough, and say something like, ‘Goodness me, I do beg your pardon.’

  “Number three, stick together! It’s a big park and there will be lots of people there, so don’t wander off and get lost. If some of us want to go on one of the rides or try our luck at a game stall, then the rest of us will stay and watch.

  “Finally number four, and this is the most important: HAVE FUN!! Fairs are wonderful events and everyone will be happy and smiling and laughing. Especially us! READY? STEADY? LET’S GO!”

  And so the unusual group stepped out the front door of 41 Fairfield Road, one after the other, and tottered along the pavement toward the park.

  Chapter 12

  Mr. Bold led the way to the fair, followed by Fifi and Sheila, who strolled arm in arm, breathing in the fresh summer air and looking about excitedly. Mrs. Bold and the twins walked on either side of Gangster’s Moll and Minty Boy, who were quivering with nerves for the first few minutes in the outside world. Mr. McNumpty sauntered behind with Uncle Tony, who pushed Miranda in her pram. Roger—his nether regions now covered by jeans—was by his side.

  An elderly lady with a small yapping dog was the first person they encountered.

  “Morning!” said Mr. Bold cheerily.

  “Lovely day,” she murmured, her eyes wide with surprise at the strange posse passing her by. The little dog pulled on his lead, trying to get a sniff of Fifi’s bottom.

  “Now now, Tiddles,” said the old lady.

  “Ooh la la!” said Fifi, skipping to one side to avoid the little chap’s twitching wet nose, but he began to bark excitedly. Sheila leaned toward him, lowered her sunglasses, and fixed the little pup with her hungry stare. That soon put a stop to his curiosity. He not only backed off but jumped into his owner’s arms with a high-pitched yelp.

  As they got nearer to the park they could hear the sound of music, and the excited chatter and whoops of people enjoying themselves. There were streams of revelers heading toward the gates to the fair. There were a few titters and stares, but as quite a lot of humans were in fancy dress, the Bold party felt as if they were blending in fairly well. In fact, some of the younger ladies at the fair seemed to be particularly impressed by Roger and his outfit, and there were some admiring glances and nervous giggling when he walked past.

  “Are you two OK?” Mrs. Bold whispered to Minty Boy and Gangster’s Moll as they entered the park. They’d gone very quiet all of a sudden.

  “I’m bearing up,” said Minty Boy. “I’m fighting the urge to bolt. But I must say it’s rather thrilling to be out in the open after all this time.”

  “Oh, doesn’t that freshly cut grass smell divine?” said Gangster’s Moll, and her large nostrils opened as wide as walnuts as she breathed in the delicious scent.

  “I know it’s hard for you,” said Betty, “but remember—don’t give the game away and start eating it. Sensible humans never touch grass!”

  The fair was in full swing, with throngs of happy families, children, and teenagers all enjoying themselves at the stalls or on the rides. The Bold party weaved their way through the colorful crowds, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells.

  First they all had to try the Lucky Dip—well, all except Sheila, as her arms were too short to reach into the barrel with the prizes. But she did enjoy taking aim at the Coconut Shy, at which the residents of Number 41 won three coconuts between them. Sheila ate hers in one gulp, which caused a shocked gasp from the human woman standing next to her.

  The twins and Miranda had a wonderful time jumping up and down on the bouncy castle, laughing and screaming—Miranda was very good at somersaults!

  Mr. McNumpty and Uncle Tony had excellent luck with the raffle, winning a bottle of elderflower cordial and some lavender-scented talcum powder (which Tony immediately sprinkled down the front of his trousers, as he was getting rather hot and was worried he might start smelling hyena-ish).

  At the face-painting stall, Minty Boy opted for a superhero eye mask, and Gangster’s Moll had pretty butterflies painted across her forehead and down one side of her neck, while Mr. and Mrs. Bold spent ages deciding which cake to choose at the cake stall and in the end plumped for a chocolate log and some macaroons.

  All the animals were being very well behaved—remembering their lessons, walking and talking like humans—so they decided to stay a little longer. Minnie’s dad, the butcher, was running a delicious hamburger stall, so everyone agreed to have their lunch there. But there was some confusion about the lack of silverware required when eating hamburgers and fries wrapped in paper, especially after all the hours the animals had spent mastering knives and forks.

  “What a waste of time that was!” said Sheila as they watched hungry humans eating with their fingers, no silverware in sight.

  “Ah, well,” explained Mr. Bold. “Sometimes they do that—but if you were in a restaurant you’d be asked to leave if you didn’t use a knife and fork.”

  “Most confusing!” muttered Sheila.

  Fifi then gave a shriek of dismay when she saw a hot dog stall, and it had to be explained to her that hot dogs weren’t actually dogs at all, just sausages in a bun.

  “I will not eat one, on principle!” she said suspiciously. “Quel bad taste!”

  Apart from these moments of confusion, everyone was having a wonderful, relaxed afternoon, and the outing seemed to be a great success.

  “Can we do this again soon, Dad?” said Bobby.

  “I expect so, son. But I just saw you rubbing your bottom on that tree. That’s not a very good example to set for the others. Remember, when we’re in public we have to behave like human beings.” Fred smiled as he said this, though. He was actually rather proud of his son’s bottom rubbing.

  “Sorry, Dad!”

  “Now, who’d like some cotton candy?” asked Mrs. Bold a few minutes later, and she received an enthusias
tic response from everyone.

  The cotton candy stall was at the far side of the fairgrounds and the group set off happily. They were almost there when Minty Boy and Gangster’s Moll suddenly stopped in their tracks, causing Mr. McNumpty to bump into them and drop his elderflower cordial.

  “Tsk!” he said, bending down to retrieve it, but he quickly realized that both horses were trembling from head to foot. “What is it, Minty? Molly? What’s up?” he asked, but the two horses were frozen to the spot. Underneath their painted faces, Mr. McNumpty could see the terror in their eyes.

  Aware that the group was no longer all together, Mr. and Mrs. Bold stopped walking and turned back to see where the rest of them were. “Something is wrong,” said Mr. Bold. He then looked ahead to see what had spooked the horses. “Oh dear,” he said. “That explains it.”

  To the right of the cotton-candy stall, about fifty feet from where they were standing, was a large sign that said: PONY RIDES. A sad and rather dirty-looking Shetland pony was carrying a child on his back and being led up and down a small enclosure by a gruff-looking man. The grass beneath his hooves was worn to dust where he had been traipsing endlessly up and down in the sun all afternoon.

  “Poor thing!” declared Mrs. Bold. “Turn around, everyone, let’s forget about the cotton candy and have some toffee apples instead. Gangster’s Moll and Minty Boy don’t want to look at that poor pony, and I don’t blame them.”

  But Gangster’s Moll and Minty Boy seemed unable to move.

  “Upsetting for you, isn’t it?” said Sheila sympathetically. “Seeing one of your own kind looking so unhappy? I saw a woman just now with a crocodile handbag. Imagine how that made me feel! But there’s nothing we can do about it at the moment, and you mustn’t let it ruin your afternoon.”